


Fairy Lights Part 1

by khorybannefin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fairies, Fluff and Smut, Large Cock, Pixies, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smut, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:27:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25054639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khorybannefin/pseuds/khorybannefin
Summary: Out at the bar Sam stumbles on a striking woman, whose under 5' tall.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You
Kudos: 37





	Fairy Lights Part 1

Fairy Lights (Part One)

Pairing: Sam + Reader

Author: khorybannefin

Author Gender: Female

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: Sweet, lovable moose Sam finds love with a pixie, literally

Warnings: Awhole lot of fluff, and some smut too.

A/N: This is by request. I hope the reader likes it. I loved the idea of someone as giant as Sam being with someone who was much smaller than he is. He’s already so careful, so considerate. But someone small enough he could actually break? Too cute not to do. And I’m sorry, but just for fun I had to make her an actual pixie. We get much too little of the fun magic in SPN. And we know they’re around thanks to that LARPing episode (which is one of my favorites).

You’d moved to town not long ago. Found work in the local bar as a waitress. You were pretty sure you’d gotten hired because of your appearance, which was good. It saved you the trouble of having to use a glamour on the man. You were rather sparing with your abilities these days. It sseemed the magic in the world dwindled year by year. Soon you’d be no more than a tiny, sllightly exotic-looking, human. You already mourned that day.

You moved through the bar, light on your feet and very conscientious of everyone around you. You’d learned long ago to deal with people. Being 4'10" they rarely saw you, and if they bumped or stepped on you it couldn’t really be blamed on them. You were nimble by nature and it came in handy. Especially during the night and weekend crowds. The bartender loved you because you could sell booze to anyone and no ones glass ran empty before you’d gotten them another. You ran the floor by yourself and made it seem effortless. He had no idea how long you’d been doing similar work. So why were you working in a dive bar. Easy, you liked people watching, and there was so much drama to be had in a bar! So much variety!

Take the two boys, for example, sitting at a table alone, the big one perpetually on a laptop and the older one looking grumpy. They were here a lot. Very quiet, stayed apart from the others, but were clearly close to each other. Billy Idol’s White Wedding was playing, which you found really fun, and you sort of danced over to their table, carrying two more beers.

“Here you go! Now these aren’t your usual, I’m afraid. Busy night and we ran out. So, this is a local draft. If you don’t like them I’ll find something else, ok?”

You held your hair back as you set the bottles down. It was long, much longer than most women wore theirs, and you wouldn’t put it up. Why? Well for starters you were proud of it. It was a sort of rank where you were from and it was particularly pretty. At least nowadays people just thought the little flashes of teal and violet in the blonde were clever highlights. They weren’t, but you weren’t going to correct them. The second reason you kept it down was because the bar was always hot. You wore backless shirts as a rule and the hair covered the pattern on your back.

Ah yes, that, well. Ok, so you were a pixie, one of the demi-fae. No tall graceful elves in your line. It was all tiny, brownies, will-o-the-wisp, things like that. Most of which had wings. You did too, gloriously colorful things, but you couldn’t exactly walk around llike that. They folded to your back and became something of a vibrant, and a touch too realistic, tattoo. The hair covered it. It just prevented questions you were tired of answering. Besides, people always wanted to touch them and that was a big no no. It was a level of intimacy only allowed to lovers.

The grumpy one with the short dark blond hair and the stunning green eyes grinned at you. You’d say grinned up at you but no. You were almost at eye level with him sitting down. Still he picked up the beer, thanked you, and took a pull. He made a considering face.

“You know, that’s not bad. I think we can handle it. How about it Sammy?”

The big one was big, even bigger close up. He had to be taller than six feet and built like a god. You couldn’t help sighing when you looked at him. He always had such emotion in his face, and most of it was heart. His long brown hair seemed to hide him, even in plain sight. Maybe it was a sort of natural shyness. You couldn’t really tell, but he was pretty, almost too pretty for a human male. You smiled at him, batting your eyes.

“If it please you, sir,” you said, curtsying as they’d taught you at court, going almost all the way to the floor, back straight and head bowed demurely. The blond laughed, and Sammy smiled an absolutely brilliant, heart melting smile. Definitely too pretty. He took a drink from the bottle.

“You know, I actually think I like this one better.” You clapped your hands, pleased to have guessed at their tastes correctly.

“I think we’ll probably want another round,” the blond leaned back in his chair, giving you a languid smile, clearly flirting. “Thanks, Arwen.”

You stuck out your tongue and punched him in the shoulder for that.

“If you’re going to be clever at least go for Tink. Elves are tall.”

He feigned pain at your light punch and gave in. You spent the rest of your night waiting on the rest of the bar, but coming back to chat with the boys. Turns out the blond was named Dean. Sammy was actually Sam and they were brothers. You couldn’t imagine how they’d ended up so different. You actually had more in common with Sam than Dean, even though he was the flirty one. Dean gave up at trying to keep up with the “nerd convention” as he called it, smiling to take the sting. He left you talking to Sam as the bar emptied out.

“So, what are you always doing on the laptop in here? Are you a Facebook addict or something?” You asked playfully, even though you’d walked around behind him enough to know it was never, ever social media.

“Actually, my brother and I kind of have a thing for monsters. It’s sort of morbid actually. We look up weird news stories, like people missing under odd circumstances, and then try to figure out what monster could have caused it.”

“What a neat game! I never would have pegged your brother to be into that kind of make-believe. What are you working on now?”

“Take a look.” He turned the laptop to face you and showed you a picture of something that looked very llike a crow crossed with a human being. It’s hands were human, but it’s nails were very long and curved. It gave you the shivers and your voice was quiet when you spoke.

“I know what that is. It’s a Night Hag.”

Sam sat back, surprised. He also noted the tone of voice and your expression. Clearly it was not something good in your head. Of course, he knew the details of the case, so he felt justified in his reaction. You, however, your reaction intrigued him.

“How do you know about Night Hags?”

You sighed. It was a long story, and not something you could really explain without telling him the truth of who you were. That wasn’t going to happen, no matter how gorgeous and sweet he was. You sighed again.

"My mother loved fairy tales,“ you lied. “She would tell me the scary ones. The pictures in the book never matched what I saw. I don’t think she meant to scare me as much as she did. That’s what I get for having such a good imagination.”

You started clearing the dead soldiers off the table. The bartender was restocking the shelves and the two of you were the only ones left. You grabbed your coat. Sam was standing at the door, holding it open for you. Sweet gentleman he was. He looked like he was actually going to walk you home!

“You don’t have to come home with me. I’m sure your brother is wondering where you are.”

“Who, Dean?” He seemed honestly surprised. He lowered his head and laughed, that smile still incredible. “Nah, Dean's asleep by now. I’ll walk you, if you don’t mind.”

“I can take care of myself you know.”

“Im sure,” Sam smiled. “You’ve got to be pretty tough to do what you do. But people tend to take advantage of women, especially when they're, you know, tiny.”

“I’m tiny?!” You looked down at yourself in mock shock and horror. “Oh my god! What happened? I was a gazelle just this morning!” You cut a sarcastic eye at the giant beside you and were gratified when you got an actual full laugh out of him.

“I’m pretty sure I know the pitfalls of my size by now. I’m a lot older than I look.”

“And my mother taught me better than to ask the follow up question. I’ll just chalk it up to amazing genes.” You bumped him with your shoulder.

“You’d know about amazing genes,” you teased. “Was your father a giant?” Sam laughed again.

“He seemed like it sometimes, but it was more his personality. He was tall, but not as tall as me. I think I took after my grandfather.”

“And I’m assuming Dean was a mamas boy.”

“Oh he definitely takes after her, though if you call him that to his face he might take you across a knee. Doesn’t even matter that it’s true.”

You and he both laughed at that. You very carefully skipped past the spanking imagery. You weren’t sure Sam meant it the way you took it. Sad effect of having a Leprechaun for a father was a naturally dirty mind. It had gotten you into a lot of trouble. In fact, it might get you in more trouble still. The longer you hung out with Sam the better your imagination got. When you’d asked about his size he’d talked about his height. Was he completely unaware of how he was built? I mean really?

You arrived at the place you were calling home lately. There was a small, vaguely shed-like building in back of a much larger house. It was a bedroom for guests, at least that’s what the little old lady in the house told you. She let you stay there for free if you’d keep track of the garden, which filled the entire backyard. It was about perfect for you, but might be a little snug or two. Still you invited Sam in.

“I’m sorry for the lack of space. I don’t usually have guests.”

As Sam stepped in and looked around you too looked over your own space. There was a small fridge with a hot plate on top of it. You really only used that for tea. Most of what you ate didn’t need to be cooked. There were colorful rugs over the floor. No windows, but you left the door open a lot. In the corner was a very small bed, and the rest of the single room was wall-to-wall books. The bathroom tacked onto the room was built like the ones in RVs. It was about three foot square and the sink, toilet, and shower were all on top of each other. When you bathed in was with the whole bathroom. Silly, but it worked. Sam looked at it like he couldn’t believe it existed. He wouldn’t have fit into it if he’d been a trained contortionist.

“Please, sit,” you motioned to the bed. “Do you like tea? I have practically every kind I think.”

“Tea sounds great.”

You busied yourself with the pot and the cups. He was still looking around. He’d had to navigate the drying herbs hanging from the ceiling to get to the bed. He was looking through your books as you turned around. You smiled.

“Have you read that one?” You asked as you brought him a cup. He inhaled and smiled.

“I haven’t. This smells amazing. What is it?”

“It’s a fun read. Very quick. And the tea is spearment, lavendar, and lemon balm. Do you like it? I was afraid I blended it too strong this batch.”

“It’s amazing. Just the smell is relaxing. Did you make this yourself?”

“Part of the perks of being in charge of the garden outside is having access to all the herbs in it. The lady of the house used to be a perfumer and keeps the yard for the scents. She sometimes makes things for friends and holidays, like lotions and things. She’s really sweet, and the variety out there is astounding considering the climate.”

You sat together, drinking tea and talking about books and monsters until nearly dawn. You finally yawned.

“Ok, I either need sleep, caffeine, sugar, or sex. Or a combination, before I pass out. What about you?” You weren’t even kidding. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a night like this. Sam was just perfect. You felt like you could talk to him forever, if you weren’t so worn out already. Sam smiled, tucking his head.

“That all sounds good to me.” He still had that sort of shy smile as he glanced sideways at you, looking through his hair. You raised an eyebrow and leaned back on the bed.

“Oh really? Well why don’t i let you pick Sam.” He looked at you, then very carefully set his mug on the floor. Turning he slid his hand along your cheek, then leaned in to place a soft kiss on your mouth. It was so sweet. He’d been such a gentleman all night, and his kiss was the same. It was almost as though he were asking permission. You pressed into the kiss before he could pull away. That was all he needed. His kiss seemed to open him up, like a flood gate, and his kisses seared with passion, his hands trapping your face, stroking through your hair. You clung to his unbelievably broad shoulders. When you broke you were both breathless and you were leaning against each others foreheads.

“Well, I didn’t expect this.” Sam smiled after he said it, pulling away to look you in the eyes. “This is probably a very bad idea.”

“Sam Winchester, if you stop now I will make sure you get the worst case of itching powder-”

He cut off your threat with another powerful kiss. His hands cupped your ass as you clung to him and he pulled you into his lap, making it easier for both of you to reach each other. You started strugging with his clothes.

“Sweet goddess on high, why do you wear so many layers?”

With your help he peeled out of a jacket and two shirts. Oh my god was he amazing under his clothes. Your hands traced over heavy muscle, his chest and arms impressive, and yet he held you, his hands at your hips, with such gentleness. He spread his fingers, tracing the tips around the edge of your pants.

“God,” he said, looking at you. “I can wrap my hands all the way around you.”

You kissed a hot line down his throat, biting down at his comment. You ground down against the bulge in his jeans, loving the friction and hearing him make a sound, part sigh, part hiss of pain.

“I have things I can wrap around you too, smart ass. Don’t tease me.”

His kisses became forceful then. His hands slid up your back, finding the ribbon that laced in criss-cross, holding the shirt on. He tugged it losse and it joined his shirts on the floor. Your breasts were small, but clearly excited. He cupped them in his large hands, pinching and teasing your nipples before leaning you back so he could continue his explorations with his mouth. The feel of him suckling and licking at your breasts had you moaning quietly, head back and eyes closed. He shoved his hands down the back of your jeans, kneading your ass and pullling you into him. You rolled your hips, rocking your denim clad sex against his erection and he growled against your breast, nipping you with his teeth.

“Too many clothes!”

You stood off his lap and popped the button on your jeans. He got the zipper himself and slid his hands slowly down your legs, taking jeans and panties together, his eyes devouring every inch of skin as it was revealed. His hands slid back up to your hips and pulled you between his legs so he could kiss under your breasts and down your stomach.

“You’re perfect. Like a fairy tale princess.”

You laughed at that, running your hands through that mass of dark hair. You loved the smell of him. Cotton, some sort of spicy cologne, and metal. It was the most masculine thing you’d ever smelled. And the heat radiating off him was giving you goosebumps, but the shivers running through you weren’t from that. It was the feel of his mouth on the super soft skin on the inside of your hips. He hadn’t gotten any lower, but you needed him to.

“Sam, please!” You were tugging on his head. You felt him smile against you as he lowered his head a little more and kissed right at the top of your mound. You moaned, knotting your hands in his hair.

“Don’t tease!”

You knew your tone was desperate, but he seemed to be having much too much fun. Still, he wrapped one arm around you and pulled you onto your back on the bed. He kissed you possessively as he opened your legs with one hand and slowly stroked your hot sex from bottom to top, looping around your clit before dipping down again. You knew he’d notice how wet you were. He couldn’t not. He made a noise against your lips, almost a delicious sound, like he’d just tasted his favorite dessert. You moved your hips against his hand, encouraging him, making pleading moans. He slipped a finger inside you, stretching you.

“God you feel so good,” he groaned against your mouth. “I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you.”

“Well I can tell you aren’t bragging,” you responded, reaching down to grip him through his jeans. He moaned this time, arching towards you, forcing himself into your touch.

“Take your time. I want this to last. And I definitely want to feel you inside me before it’s done.” You were moving your hips against his hand. He pushed a second finger into you, and you arched against him, whispering encouragement.

He was so good with his hands, but you wanted more, so much more. Reaching down you opened his pants, sliding your hand in and finding him, thick and hard. Your fingers wouldn’t go around him, but you gripped him hard and pulled from base to tip. He responded by taking your lips forcefully, plunging his tongue into your willing mouth. His fingers moving in you started to curl, hitting a smooth spot in the front of you, sending a heavy warmth building inside.

You stroked him slowly, feeling the wetness coming from him and using it to ease your motions. He was throbbing in your hand with every beat of his pulse. Oh he was going to be big, but you were hungry for him. You lay, feeling his mouth all over you, kissing and biting, his fingers stroking inside you, and between one move and the next you were crying out, a shuddering orgasm clamping you around his fingers and washing them with more wetness. He chuckled against your throat, pulling back and watching you with dark eyes as he tasted you on his fingers.

“You taste like honey and roses.”

You couldn’t stop him as he slid down off the edge of the bed. He pulled you towards him, kissing your inner thighs. You were protesting when his tongue dove into you the first time and your words turned into a moan. You were still sensitive from the orgasm, but his mouth was doing horrible, wonderful things to you. He was working his fingers inside you again, carefully adding a third. His tongue swirling around your clit and the fullness of his fingers inside brough you faster the second time. He came up to kiss you, and you did indeed taste like honey and roses. No one had ever commented on it before. But then, you hadn’t had a lover who wasn’t fae in more than a century. You pushed at his chest, laying him back.

“My turn to taste.”

His jeans departed and you were left with the glory that was a fully aroused Sam. It made you hot just looking at him this way, laid out nude before you like some exotic delicacy. Your hands couldn’t help stroking him all over, He shifted and sighed, and when you finally took his length in both hands his stomach tightened and he groaned at the wall. You wroked him with your hands a few times before taking him in your mouth. You watched him squirm as your tongue circled his head over and over until he couldn’t stand it and he pushed your head down, forcing you to take more. You happily obliged, letting him fill your mouth with each thrust upwards of his hips. He fucked your mouth as your hands teased the base of his shaft and rolled his soft sack in your palm. He had to pull you off him, leaving you to give a little disappointed noise.

“I’m too close, and I want you around me.”

You nodded an affirmative and he pulled you up his body so he could kiss you. You had to move back down to get your hips where they needed to be. You stroked up against his length, slicking him with your own essence. Slowly you worked down onto him. He held very still, allowing you to control how much and how fast. You could tell it was hard for him. His hands fisted in the sheets, his jaw clenching. You could feel every inch of him as you opened slowly, wrapping him tight. When your hips finally met his you were both moaning. His hands went to your hips and held you.

“Fucking god, you’re incredible,” Sam said, his voice thick with desire.

“Sam,” you rocked your hips against him, feeling him move inside and desperate for more. “If you don’t fuck me with this giant thing…”

You didn’t know if he groaned at the motion or the words, but his hips started to follow that slow rocking rhythm. It was amazing. He filled every inch of you and you you wanted more. Pleasure built in waves as you moved over and into each other. Eventually slow would no longer do. Speed and force drove you wild, his hands gripping bruises and your pale hips as he rocked himself up into you, pulling you down to meet his thrusts. Your breath started to hitch, and Sam noticed. His thumb ran a circle around your clit and you were done. The world shattered into stained glass and the feel of your blody clenching down on him prolonged the orgasm. It worked for him too because he cursed and cried out your name, thrusting deep as he spilled his own pleasure inside your body.

As you came down he pulled you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest. You felt like a child in his arms, safe, until he asked the question.

“Where is that light coming from?”

You looked around the room and realized that the stained glass colors that you’d seen as you orgasmed were very real. You sat up, looking around, and Sam swore behind you. You felt him lift your hair and suck in a breath. Shit. You could feel his fingertips, so very light, across your back. You knew exactly what he was seeing, but damned if you knew why! This hadn’t ever happened before, and you;d had enough lovers you would have noticed.

“They’re stunning.” He whispered. He couldn’t seem to stop touching them. “Are they real?”

You sighed and stood with your back to him. You pulled the fall of your hair over your shoulder to the front, exposing the glowing wings that were melded to your skin. The tops curled just over your shoulders and the lower bits curved down onto your ass. They’d be just a vividly colored tattoo most times. Tonight they glowed, like the were lit from the other side. You sighed, relaxing, and they burst from your skin, unfurling much larger than the tattoo, and just as vibrant. You turned to look at Sam, a tiny nude woman with huge glowing butterfly wings floating behind you. You beat them once and your toes left the ground. You settled back to the floor and looked at him sadly.

“Are you afraid of me now?”

He was sitting up in your sheets, all golden skin and amazing musculature. Honestly, someone needed to sculpt this man for posterity. But he was looking at you like a child who’s just seen one of his dreams come to life.

“Afraid? Are you kidding me?” He slid to the edge of the bed, taking your hand and pulling you close to him so he could look you in the eyes.

“You are a fantasy come true. All my life I’ve dealt with the evil and horrifying. I’ve never, ever, seen anything as beautiful as you.” He leaned in and kissed you softly.

“And I do believe in fairies.” You laughed, cupping his face in both hands, and peppering him with kisses.

“Thank the Lady. If you’d been anyone normal I’m not sure I’d have had enough magic left to wipe your memory.”

“You can do that?” He asked, looking confused. “Hey, wait a minute, what do you mean "If you’d been anyone normal”? I am normal!“

"You know fairies have truth sense, right?” You scoffed, hands on your hips as you folded your wings up. They’d stopped glowing finally. “You’ve been giving me flat out lies and half truths all night. You’re a hunter, you and your brother both. I told you I’m older than I look. You’re not even close to the first I’ve met. Just never slept with one.”

“Well, I’ll take that as an honor.” Sam was putting his clothes on and giving that shy little boy grin. He was too cute for words.

“As well you should.” You sniffed hautily, but then turned serious. "About the Night Hag, you really don’t want to mess with it. If she’s here she isn’t alone.“

"You weren’t kidding about knowing about them. Guess I can guess why.”

“Please Sam,” you grabbed his arm as he was stepping into his boots. “You don’t know what you’re messing with. Leave it alone. She’ll get her fill and go back.” He stopped and looked at you.

“People are dying, Y/N. I can’t let that go, and neither can Dean.” He was determined. You could see it in his eyes. Damn the self-riteousness of hunters. And damn him especially for being sincere. Heroes. They weren’t all dead and gone. More's the pity. He was just going to get hurt.

“If I can’t get you to stop, then at least let me help. You won’t find a better source in a book or on the web, I can guarantee that.” You wrapped a silk sari around yourself and walked out the door barefoot. Sam sighed and came with you, shutting the door behind himself.

“Well, I guess you’re coming home with me then. Dean is going to shit a brick.”


End file.
